March 2026 | Sanskrit

The Sanskrit language has an ancient, sacred history. Often termed the “language of the gods”, Sanskrit is a particularly rich and evocative language, able to express subtle concepts and emotions. Therefore, it continues to hold prominence as a devotional language. In Hinduism language is considered responsible for origin of the universe; Shabda Brahman, or transcendental sound vibration, leading to creation through four levels of speech: vaikhari (spoken word), madhyama (mental vibration), pasyanti (telepathic) and para (transcendental). Most of us consider language only from the level of spoken word, but Sanskrit teaches us that much more is possible. The vibrational quality of Sanskrit has recently been studied for its positive effects on the mind: memory, stress, attitude, calm, focus, and decision-making among others.

The study of Philology suggests that Sanskrit arose in northwest South Asia, deriving from Indo-Aryan languages in the late Bronze Age. The origin of Sanskrit in a written form is traced back to the 2^nd millennium BCE and the Rig Veda, a collection of sacred hymns, and perhaps the first book ever written. Sanskrit contains abstract concepts and philosophical terms which are not found in any other language. It is said that it contains more than 250 words to describe rainfall, 67 words to describe water, and 65 words to describe earth, for example.

Panini, the Sanskrit grammarian who standardised the language, was a contemporary of Patanjali. And so, in yoga there has always been much connection between language, speech, and the practices. Today, there are varying opinions about the importance of Sanskrit within the practice and teaching of yoga. There are some who feel that the use of Sanskrit terms in yoga teaching excludes some students in an international context. Others feel that the inclusion of Sanskrit adds a richer layer of understanding and cultural context to the practices.

 In this issue of Sivananda Yoga Sandesha we look at the Sanskrit language and yoga.  We share research about the “Sanskrit Effect” of verbal recitation on brain development, Swami Vishnudevananda’s words on mantras and OM, the unique “flavour” of the asana names in Sanskrit, the story of the sacred birth of language, and discover “What Changes When Teachers Learn Sanskrit”. We also look at the traditional Indian kitchen, or Paakashaala and visit the Indian village Mattur, in Karnataka, where Sanskrit is still spoken in homes, classrooms, and in everyday conversation. As usual, please feel free to reach out to us with your thoughts and feedback at: [email protected]

Please enjoy these photos taken at the recent Maha Rudram for World Peace which was conducted at the Neyyar Dam Ashram from February 23 to  25, 2026. This was the second big event in the VishnuSwami@100 celebrations.  It was attended by all of our Indian Trustees, senior staff members and the broader community of many past staff members and students from across India.

Mantras are Sanskrit-invocations of the Supreme Being. Reinforced and propelled by japa meditation, they pass from the verbal level through the mental and telepathic states, and on to pure thought energy. Of all languages, Sanskrit most closely approaches telepathic language because of its affinity to the fifty primeval sounds. It is the most direct way to approach the transcendental state.

Mantras cannot be concocted or tailor-made for the individual, despite some current claims. They have always existed in a latent state as sound energies. Just as gravity was discovered but not invented by Newton, Mantras were revealed to the ancient masters. They have been codified in the scriptures and handed down from guru to disciple. Although it is customary for the guru when giving initiation to accept voluntary offerings of fruit, flowers or money, the selling of Mantras is strictly against all spiritual rules.

Neither Mantra, deity nor guru, once chosen, should be changed. There are many paths up the mountain. Perseverance on one alone will bring the aspirant to the top faster than if he were to spread his energies in exploring all the alternative paths.

All Mantras are hidden in OM, which is the abstract, highest Mantra of the cosmos. OM is the manifest symbol of the Sabdabrahman vibration, or God; but, it must not be equated with the Divine. The universe has come from OM, rests in OM and dissolves in it. AUM, as it is sometimes written, covers the threefold experience of man; A represents the physical plane, U represents the mental and astral plane, and M represents the deep sleep state and everything beyond reach of the intellect. The transcendental sound of OM is heard only by Yogis, not by the ordinary ear.

Letters of the alphabet are emanations from OM, which is the root of all sounds and letters. A is the first sound the vocal apparatus can utter, and M is the last. In between is the middle range of U. The three sounds comprising OM encompass all sound. There is no language, music or poetry outside its range. Not only does all language and thought arise from this word, but also the energy vibrations of the universe itself.

Join Sanskrit and Vedanta teacher Srinivas Pulluri for some thoughts on learning and using the Sanskrit names of the asanas in class. The Sanskrit words are deep and meaningful, adding layers of symbolic and cultural significance to your practice or teaching.

 I hope this video inspires you to learn these names. With best wishes for your yoga practice! Pranams.

Indian cooking has long been considered a form of medicine, as well as a source of pleasure in food. In Sanskrit, the traditional Indian cooking space is known as ‘Paakashaala’. ‘Paka’ means to cook, ripen, or transform food through heat. ‘Sala’ means a house, hall, or dedicated space. In Indian tradition, ‘Paakashaala’ together refers to a place “the place where transformation through cooking” happens.”

However, in the traditional Indian context, ‘Paakashaala’ is more than a cooking space. It is considered a sacred space where food is transformed into an edible form that is deeply healing and nourishing for our body and mind.

The term ‘Paakashaala’ holds a philosophical meaning in the Indian context. In classical Indian thought, cooking is not just the preparation of food; it is the refinement of prāṇa (the life force), in which raw food becomes digestible, nourishing, and the energy that supports consciousness.

Ayurveda considers food to be medicine (ahara eva aushadham), and the traditionally Paakashaala is considered the first pharmacy of the household.

How foods are cooked in a Paakashaala, according to Ayurveda:

• The kitchen fire mirrors Agni (digestive fire), and in the kitchen fire, the foods are cooked in a way that supports the digestive fire.
• The cook’s state of mind must be positive and calm, as this affects the food’s subtle qualities (guna). Foods prepared with a sattva state of mind (clarity, calmness, love) enhance mental balance.
• Seasonal cooking to align the body with Ritucharya (seasonal rhythms).

The traditional Indian Paakashaala was kept clean and orderly, energized with mantra or prayer, and structured according to Vastu principles. Cooking was considered a daily ritual, not a chore. In many Indian households, the first portion of food is offered to the deities, and cooking begins after bathing and centring oneself. This reflects the Vedic understanding that food carries consciousness. Even the utensils used for cooking were earthenware or clay stoves (chulha) supporting the earth element, brass, copper, or iron utensils, stone grinders (sil-batta), freshly ground spices, and seasonal, local ingredients. The emphasis in cooking was on simple, easily digestible meals, with the harmony of the six tastes to attain dosha balance.

However, in the modern-day context, Paakashaala means reviving the spirit of mindful cooking, seasonal eating, using whole ingredients, cooking with presence instead of rush and seeing food as energy, not just calories.

In the earliest dawn of creation, when the sky had not yet learned its blue and the earth lay quiet beneath a veil of mist, the world existed in a profound stillness. Mountains stood without names. Rivers flowed without song. Even the wind moved without a voice.

Brahma, the Creator, looked upon his new creation and felt a strange incompleteness. Forms were there; trees, waters, creatures but something essential was missing. The beings he had shaped could see, but they could not describe. They could feel, but they could not express. Their thoughts drifted like clouds with no rain.

“What is creation,” Brahma wondered, “if it cannot speak?”

From his contemplation arose a luminous radiance, soft yet blinding, like the first ray of sunlight touching a white lotus. From that light emerged a divine feminine presence, serene and resplendent. She was clad in pure white, seated upon a blooming lotus that floated upon still cosmic waters. In her hands she held a veena, a manuscript, and a rosary of crystal beads.

This was Saraswati.

When she opened her eyes, the silence trembled. Brahma bowed to her. “O Devi,” he said, “my creation is formed, yet it lacks harmony. Grant it the power of expression. Let thought find voice.”

Saraswati smiled, and with a gentle movement of her fingers, she plucked the first note upon her veena. The sound did not merely echo; it awakened.

From that single note emerged vibration. From vibration flowed resonance. And from resonance blossomed the sacred syllable Om, deep, steady, eternal.

The sound spread across the heavens, entering mountains, rivers, and the hearts of living beings. The wind found its whisper. The waters found their murmur. Birds lifted their throats and sang.

But Saraswati was not finished. From Om the stream of sound unfolded, syllable after syllable, each clear and precise, each carrying its own rhythm and intelligence. From her breath emerged the language that would later be called Sanskrit, a refined, luminous divine language.

She then approached the rishis, who sat in meditation in the forests of the newborn earth. Into their still minds she poured this current of sound. They did not invent it; they heard it. In their silence, the mantras revealed themselves like hidden springs rising to the surface.

Thus, the hymns of the Vedas were born. It is said that wherever Saraswati’s veena resonates, confusion becomes clarity. Speech becomes truthful. Words become offerings rather than weapons.

Before departing to flow as a celestial river of knowledge, she spoke to the sages: “Speech is sacred. Guard it. Let your words carry light, not shadow. For sound shapes thought and thought shapes destiny.”

And thus, the world discovered its voice. From that day forward, language became more than merely a tool. It was a bridge between silence and form, between mind and reality. And in every word spoken with awareness, the first note of Saraswati’s veena still hums reminding us that before speech, there was silence and within silence, the seed of all sound. Before we speak, there is always a moment of silence, to remember Saraswati herself–the still source from which is every word arises.

On the banks of the Tunga river in Karnataka’s Shivamogga district lies Mattur, a village of about 5,000 residents that has drawn attention far beyond India. Here, Sanskrit is not confined to scripture or scholarship. It is spoken in homes, in classrooms, in everyday conversation.

India’s 2011 Census recorded just over 24,000 people nationwide who identified Sanskrit as their mother tongue, a tiny fraction in a country of more than 1.2 billion at the time. Although Sanskrit is one of the 22 languages listed in the Eighth Schedule of the Constitution of India granting it official recognition, it is rarely used as a primary spoken language. In most regions, it survives in liturgy, academia and ritual recitation, much like Latin in contemporary Europe. Mattur stands as an exception.

The village’s roots in learning trace back to the Vijayanagara Empire (14th–16th centuries), when Sankethi Brahmin families were settled in the region to sustain Vedic scholarship. Their dialect, Sankethi, retains a strong Sanskrit structure blended with Kannada and Tamil. The broader region was shaped by the Sringeri Sharada Peetham, established in the 8th century by Adi Shankaracharya, which remains one of the foremost centres of Advaita Vedanta and Sanskrit learning.

In 1981, a spoken Sanskrit initiative by Samskrita Bharati encouraged villagers to consciously adopt the language in daily use. What had long existed as scholarly inheritance became community practice. National media took notice; visitors and researchers followed.

Today, Sanskrit is compulsory in the local school. Many children begin Vedic recitation after Upanayana. The village has produced numerous Sanskrit teachers and professors serving across India. A small Sanskrit research centre and museum preserve manuscripts and teaching materials. Across the river in Hosahalli, the art of Gamaka, the melodic narration of epic literature, continues.

Globally, UNESCO has warned of accelerating language loss, with nearly half of the world’s languages at risk of disappearing within a generation. Against that backdrop, Mattur offers not revivalist spectacle, but continuity. In an age of internet shorthand and emojis, on the quiet banks of the Tunga, an ancient language remains in the present tense, spoken with ease, memory, and quiet confidence.

Most yoga teachers who train in India already inhabit a sophisticated physical and philosophical discipline. You do not need Sanskrit to teach well. Many of you already teach beautifully without it.

What I want to share here is not an argument for authenticity, nor for tradition as obligation. It is an observation drawn from over two decades of language teaching at Zabaan School for Languages: when yoga teachers begin to understand Sanskrit structurally, something measurable shifts in their teaching.

Let me illustrate this through a familiar example.

Surya Namaskara Beyond Translation

सूर्य नमस्कार (sūrya namaskāra) is commonly rendered as Sun Salutation. Accurate, but incomplete.

नमस्कार (namaskāra) derives from the verbal root नम् (nam), to bow, and कर (kara), to make or to perform. It is not a static noun but the act of making a bow. Linguistically, the word encodes gesture. The practitioner is not performing exercise but enacting reverence.

In Vedic thought, the human being is not merely biological matter but a layered existence. The physical body and the subtle consciousness, the जीवात्मा (jīvātmā), coexist. The purpose of सूर्य नमस्कार (sūrya namaskāra) is therefore not simply circulation or muscular activation but the energizing of both dimensions of being.

When teachers understand this etymologically rather than poetically, their cueing changes. The sequence is no longer introduced as movement toward fitness but as a patterned offering embedded in cosmology.

The Architecture of Meaning

The twelve positions are traditionally linked to the twelve आदित्याः (ādityāḥ). The word आदित्य (āditya) is derived from अदिति (aditi).
अ (a) is a negating prefix.
दिति (diti) is linked to the root दा (dā), to bind.

Thus अदिति (aditi) signifies the unbound, boundlessness.

This is not decorative philology. Sanskrit builds metaphysics through morphology. The idea of vastness is encoded within the word itself. When teachers become aware of this, philosophical concepts cease to float abstractly and instead become grounded in linguistic form.

Each cycle traditionally begins with ॐ (ōm) followed by the dative form of a solar deity and नमः (namaḥ). For example:

ॐ मित्राय नमः (ōm mitrāya namaḥ)

The form मित्राय (mitrāya) is in the dative case, meaning to Mitra. Even the grammar enacts offering. The case ending carries the directionality of devotion.

This is what Sanskrit does uniquely well. Meaning is not merely semantic. It is structural.

Asana as Linguistic Construction

Consider आसन (āsana). It derives from the root आस् (ās), to sit. The suffix -अन (-ana) forms a noun of action. An āsana is fundamentally an act of sitting or placing oneself.

This matters. It reorients the practitioner from performance to placement.

When we analyze specific names:

• प्रणामासन (praṇāmāsana) from नम्, to bow
• हस्तोत्तानासन (hastottānāsana) from हस्त, hand, and उत्तान, extended upward
• अष्टाङ्गनमस्कार (aṣṭāṅganamaskāra) eight limbed reverence
• भुजङ्गासन (bhujaṅgāsana) the cobra posture

Each compound is a compressed description of action and symbolism.

At Zabaan, when yoga teachers begin to work through roots, compounds, and case endings, we observe several concrete outcomes:

1. Pronunciation stabilizes. Teachers no longer approximate sounds but articulate them with confidence.
2. Chanting becomes intentional rather than imitative.
3. Explanations become concise and accurate rather than mystical and vague.
4. Teachers report feeling more intellectually anchored within the tradition.
5. Students respond positively to linguistic clarity, especially in international contexts.

Importantly, the shift is not toward scholasticism. It is toward precision.

The Number Twelve Revisited

Traditional exegesis often associates the twelve positions with twelve aspects of consciousness or manifestations of life energy such as motion, breath, perception, and cognition. Whether one interprets this symbolically or philosophically, the structural coherence of the system becomes clearer when approached through language.

Sanskrit excels at building taxonomies of existence. It names functions of consciousness with exactness. For yoga teachers, this provides vocabulary to articulate what is often felt but not verbalized.

Why This Matters for Experienced Teachers

Yoga today operates globally. Many of your students are intellectually curious. They ask about meaning, origins, and context. Teachers who possess even a foundational understanding of Sanskrit grammar are able to respond without over-romanticizing or oversimplifying.

Learning Sanskrit does not make one more spiritual. It makes one more precise.

Precision fosters confidence. Confidence deepens presence. Presence enhances teaching.

That is the pattern we have consistently observed.

This reflection is especially directed to teachers who did not formally study Sanskrit during their training. It is never too late to approach the language. Even a modest engagement with roots and grammatical structure opens a new dimension of the practice.

Yoga is embodied philosophy. Sanskrit is the language in which much of that philosophy was first articulated. To study it, even in a limited way, is not to add something foreign to your teaching. It is to move slightly closer to its linguistic source.

—

Ali Taqi, originally from Hyderabad but born and raised in Chicago, is the Founder and Director of Zabaan School for Languages in New Delhi. Since 2003, he has been teaching Hindi to students worldwide, combining grammatical precision with deep cultural insight.

Learn more at: https://www.zabaan.com/